


prom king

by popcornizuku



Category: A Nightmare on Elm Street (2010), Dead by Daylight (Video Game), Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Bisexuality, Cheesy, Confessions, Fluff, M/M, Mutual Pining, Prom, School Dances, Slow Dancing, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, quentin loves him anyway, steve is kind of an idiot but that's okay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-17
Updated: 2020-10-17
Packaged: 2021-03-09 06:08:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,718
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27060031
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/popcornizuku/pseuds/popcornizuku
Summary: Robin had her arms crossed, a brow raised at the sight before her. It was a bedazzled poster, declaring, “Steve Harrington for Hawkins High’s Prom King!”It was dreadfully bright and a bit crudely made. Something more fitting for a middle school class president campaign. She turned her gaze to the aforementioned party, inquiring, “Did you make this?"Steve shook his head, looking a little too pleased for such a hideous poster.
Relationships: Steve Harrington/Quentin Smith
Comments: 5
Kudos: 29





	prom king

**Author's Note:**

> I've been working on this for so long, and it's not perfect, but I'm pretty happy with it :)
> 
> a couple notes to kind of set the scene: though the story takes place in Hawkins, it's set in 2010 (technically, Quentin's time) and nothing supernatural happened to either of them, but their stories still follow fairly closely to their respective canon events (I hope it isn't too confusing alksdkjfs)
> 
> thanks for reading and I hope you enjoy!

Robin had her arms crossed, a brow raised at the sight before her. It was a bedazzled poster, declaring, “Steve Harrington for Hawkins High’s Prom King!”  
  
It was dreadfully bright and a bit crudely made. Something more fitting for a middle school class president campaign. She turned her gaze to the aforementioned party, inquiring, “Did you make this?”  
  
Steve shook his head, looking a little too pleased for such a hideous poster, “Uh, no. There’s some people on the prom committee who are invested in me winning, for some reason. Honestly, I thought I wouldn’t have a winning chance after losing my ‘throne.’”  
  
He used air quotes for that last word, and it earned a chuckle from Robin. The two continued on their way, and she hummed thoughtfully, “I mean, you’re still well liked clearly. It’ll probably be a race between you and Billy.”  
  
Steve placed a hand on his chest and using a bit of a wistful tone, adding another mark to Robin’s mental list of why Steve Harrington is actually a huge drama queen, “Well, whoever wins, it’s nice to see people haven’t completely gone against me. But, I’ve been humbled, and I understand now that popularity isn’t everything. I’d be perfectly happy if I didn’t win. Just being a nominee is enough for me!”  
  
Robin gave him a long look, and yeah, definitely a drama queen, “You want to win that crown, don’t you?”  
  
Steve deflated, “Yeah, I do. Badly.”  
  
She laughed, “Cute that you thought you can erase your popularity competitiveness so easily. Nice conviction, though, I almost believed you. You probably want that crown so bad, you think about it in the middle of the night and wonder how it feels on your head.”  
  
Steve scoffed, “No, I do not. I want to win, not have an intimate relationship with the crown itself.”  
  
She rolled her eyes, “Could have fooled me, Harrington. So, what’s your campaign? How are you going to win this?”  
  
He shrugged, scratching at his neck, “I don’t know. I haven’t really thought about that. I’ve just kinda let the committee handle all of it.”  
  
“Well, you definitely won’t win that way. See,” She gestured to two kids locking lips, Abigail Ranger and Thomas Walkerson, who he remembers were also running for prom royalty, “Those two have appeal because they’re a power couple. Been together since freshman year, and have been caught having sex in the bathroom more times than anyone else. They definitely have a fighting chance in the race.”  
  
“Well,” Steve scrunched his nose up slightly in disgust, “I’m not doing that.”  
  
“Fair enough. Billy has appeal as the sexy bad boy type. He’s an asshole, but some girls are into that.” She shoved her finger into Steve’s chest, snickering, “Unfortunately for you, you’ve completely lost that appeal, because you’ve been totally outed as a softie, who believes in the power of love more than anything.”  
  
Steve groaned, shoving his face in his hands, “Ugh, don’t remind me. It’s humiliating.”  
  
“It shouldn’t be, though.” Robin shrugged, “In my opinion, it makes you way more likable than Billy ever could be.”  
  
Steve peeked behind his fingers, staring at her in wonder, “You think so?”  
  
“Oh yeah. If there’s one thing girls love more than a bad boy, it’s a sensitive boy. A boy who will give them goodbye kisses, who isn’t afraid to say ‘I love you’, who will buy them flowers, who will give them cute nicknames, who will tell them they’re beautiful just because he felt like it. Girls go nuts for sweet guys like that, because they’re so rare for a girl to find. An attractive guy who doesn’t treat them like shit and actually respects them as a person is a gold mine of a partner that few will ever find.”  
  
Steve frowned, “Is it really that bad? Or is this just your predisposition against men talking?”  
  
“I don’t have a predisposition against men just because I’m into girls. How many times do I have to tell you that? Anyway, it varies from girl to girl, obviously. I’m just saying, if you could pull off the boy band member appeal, you will definitely win.”  
  
Steve found the idea of acting like he’s part of a boy band distasteful, but maybe Robin really is on to something. He may have to run it by a second opinion just to be sure.  
  
“If you say so, Robin.”  
  
“Correction, I know so.”  
  
-  
  
Robin was one of Steve’s best friends, befriending her during junior year after he got a kick in the ass by some humility. His second best friend is someone he’s known since middle school. Quentin Smith moved to the house next door to Steve from Springwood, Ohio, not long after they both turned twelve. He was a shy kid at first, and it took a lot for them to grow close. They first met after Steve’s dog accidentally ran into the Smith’s house. Steve got chewed out by Mr. Smith and his dad, which he was embarrassed to find the son of Mr. Smith had witnessed. Quentin had taken pity on him, though, and set his anxiety aside for a moment. Before Steve left, he offered to introduce him to his cat. The two of them have been talking ever since.  
  
Quentin is just a few months younger than Steve, but he doesn’t attend the high school. He’s been doing home schooling for a long time. Between Quentin’s aversion of crowds, some unspoken trauma Steve still doesn’t know the details of, his ADD, his anxiety, and a number of other reasons, it was what was best for him. The two of them have found ways to make their friendship work, even if they don’t attend class together. If they both open their bedroom windows and lean out, they can talk to each other without disturbing anyone. They spend almost every weekend at one of each other’s houses. They text and call from time to time. Their parents sometimes say they spend too much time together, but that hasn’t stopped them.  
  
Quentin could be called an oddball, but Steve just saw the good in his friend. Which is probably why it’s not a surprise that Steve had his bisexual awakening thanks to his next door neighbor. He’s had crushes on girls, and even dated Nancy Wheeler for a bit, but there’s always been a weird itch in his heart. It’s all thanks to Quentin and his smile, his wavy hair, his humor, his far superior taste in music and movies (which he begrudgingly admits, but never out loud), his fierce loyalty, his caring nature, his soft voice, his expressive eyes, and so much more. Only Robin knows about it, Steve never quite gathering the courage to come out to Quentin. It’s just weird to come out to the very person that made you realize you were just a bit gay. He’s kicked himself enough over it, though. In the end, just being Quentin’s friend was more than enough and he was happy to keep up their chats and hang outs, and stick to their usual bantering.  
  
The animated sounds from Mario Kart was a common background soundtrack to their after school talks. The topic of his previous conversation with Robin eventually came up, and Quentin gave him a funny look after he explained everything, “Why would you try to be something you’re not just to win some crown?”  
  
Steve shrugged, “I don’t want to change who I am. It’s just a matter of putting myself out there more, I guess.“  
  
“Hmm... You really want to win prom king, huh?”  
  
“I mean, yeah,” Steve grinned, “It’d be pretty cool.”  
  
Quentin smiled, a little triumphantly as he placed first on their round and Steve made an aggravated noise of defeat, but he kept on topic, “I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. You’ve always loved those school dances, and prom is supposedly the best of the best.”  
  
“Yeah, the school raises money all year to try and put something nice together. I think they got a hotel ballroom like last year. Homecoming is fun and all, but nothing beats prom.”  
  
Quentin’s controller dropped to his lap, not quite advancing their game to the next round, and his friend’s gaze trained to him in question. The younger man’s expression was hard to read, as he softly admitted, “It sounds like fun. I... I wish I could go.”  
  
Steve’s eyes widened, and he tried to ignore the fluttering in his chest as he exclaimed, “Well, maybe you can!”  
  
Quentin shook his head, his hair lightly ruffling with the action, “I can’t—“  
  
“Sure, you can. You have to sign some forms and the school has to confirm you’re a student and all, but they accept people off campus to come. I can even cover your ticket, if that’s an issue.”  
  
His wallet can complain about that offer later, but he was barreling through this one. His heart was beating rapidly, thinking about taking Quentin to prom and asking him to dance (as if he had the courage to do that, never mind the whole school having their eyes on him). Why hadn’t he thought of this earlier?  
  
His ray of hope diminished slightly when Quentin chuckled with another shake of his head, “Thanks, but no, I still can’t. There’s gonna be a lot of people, loud music, flashing lights. I don’t think I could last ten minutes in a room like that.”  
  
“Oh... right...”  
  
He tried not to sound too disappointed, but it clearly didn’t work, because Quentin offered him an apologetic smile, “Sorry, Steve. Thanks for the offer, though.“  
  
“Yeah, anytime.”  
  
The conversation lulled there, so Quentin picked up his controller again and the next round started.  
  
-  
  
“Okay,” Robin pointed her fork at him, chewing over the mushy corn in her mouth as she spoke, “Now, that we have your campaign properly going, we need to find you a ticket date.”  
  
Steve paused before taking a bite of his sandwich and gave her a funny look, “What? Why?”  
  
“The fuck do you mean why? This is prom, dude.”  
  
“And?” Steve frowned, “I thought we were going as friends.”  
  
Robin rolled her eyes, but it was fond and not meant to be hurtful, “That was before you decided to take becoming prom king seriously. Having me as your date would kill any chance you have at winning.”  
  
“What? No way.”  
  
“Yes, way. I know how the social hierarchy works better than you, Harrington. You need at least a semi-popular pretty girl to say nice things about you to her friends.” She nudges him and points towards the opposite end of the cafeteria, where Billy currently has his arm slung across the shoulders of a pretty redhead, “Billy has already snagged Madison freakin’ Zimmer. It’s gonna be hard to beat a package like that.”  
  
Steve’s eyes widened and he nearly choked on his food, “B-But Madison is, like, a decent person. How did she end up with Billy?”  
  
“It’s all for the sake of winning,” Robin shrugged, “So, I’ve devised a plan for two potential dates. If you screw up both of them, your chances of winning have slimmed tremendously.”  
  
Steve eyes her warily, quirking a brow, “Are you sure you’re not just picking girls you like that I’m gonna break the heart of, but not too badly, so we can still end up friends, but you comfort her and try to win her number for it?”  
  
“No, I’m not stooping that low,” Robin scoffed, “These girls are nice enough that they’ll fit your image. Plus, they’re pretty enough for any gay, straight, or bisexual to appreciate.”  
  
Steve internally winced at the phrasing, not able to hide the apprehension in his tone, “Right.”  
  
Robin gestured towards a table not far from their own, where a group of girls were sat, “You see the brunette with the pink backpack? That’s Nickie Perez. She’s pretty smart and one of the school’s best volleyball players. She’s well liked, but she doesn’t seem to have much of a life outside the sport.”  
  
Steve recognizes her, but he doesn’t think he’s talked to her before. It’d be hard to strike up a conversation with her, much less ask her out with only a couple months left till prom. Robin turned their attention towards a quieter corner, where a girl with jet black hair cut short was currently showing something on her phone to the guy on her right. He doesn’t recall her name, but he has seen and talked to her before.  
  
“That right there is Teresa Ferryman. She’s actually really popular despite what you may think. She’s friends with several on the higher tiers of the hierarchy, and she’s not too shabby at connecting people. She hangs out with a lot of outcasts, but they aren’t social rejects once they’re friends with her. She’s like you in that whole ‘wanting to help people’ business, so she fits your brand. Even Jonathan Byers thinks highly of her.”  
  
He decided against knowing why she knows that bit of information, and instead studied Teresa for a moment. She seemed to draw in those around her, like she was the center of everyone’s social solar system. People talked around her, but their eyes always trained back to her. They clearly liked her company.  
  
“No one has asked either of them out yet?”  
  
“Oh, I’m sure people have tried. But, no. Neither of them have a date to the prom yet.”  
  
Steve felt a bit sick in the stomach, and she must have caught onto his discomfort, because her smile was far more sympathetic, “I know going with a girl just for pointers doesn’t feel great, but hey, maybe you can get a friend out of it. Be honest with them, and I think it’ll be okay.”  
  
Steve sighed, fidgeting with the plastic covering on his water bottle, “I guess...”  
  
Robin shook her head, piling up their combined trash onto her tray, “Look, I know they aren’t who you really want to go with. Hell, I know you don’t even really want to go with me. But, if you want to win, this is the only way.”  
  
His brain processed what she said a little slowly, and he felt his cheeks warm as he indignantly sneered after her, “Hey, wait a minute—“  
  
Robin snickered, already out of his reach, “Hey, I didn’t say anyone specific. If they came to your mind, that’s on you.”  
  
He slumped in his seat, trying to ignore the fluttering in his chest. Robin is the worst sometimes.  
  
-  
  
Turns out, both girls are actually pretty cool, but him and Teresa got along really well. He hung out with her and a couple of her friends, and he thought maybe this could work. Maybe he really needs to stop doubting Robin, but he knows that’s not happening, and he also knows his pride would never let him admit that to her. Whatever, her plan was working and he might have a chance against Billy and Madison. He just hasn’t found the right time to exactly ask her to be his somewhat-fake date to the prom. As nice as Teresa is, he doesn’t want to develop their relationship beyond something platonic. It’d all be a show for prom royalty. He just... has to figure out if she’d be on board for that.  
  
Well, his opportunity arises in a very strange way.  
  
It was him and Teresa at the library one Friday afternoon, when he got a text from Quentin asking about how his day was. He must have made one hell of a face, because Teresa quirked a brow and asked, “Who’re you texting? Got a date coming up?”  
  
Steve nearly choked on perfectly good air, as he shoved his phone in his pocket and proclaimed a bit too fiercely, “No! It-It’s just my friend. They, uh, don’t go to school here.”  
  
Teresa hummed thoughtfully, a moment of silence stretching between them. She broke it eventually, and he wonders how he hasn’t died yet, “Steve, you’re a nice guy and all, and I don’t mean to sound accusatory, but... I just have a feeling that you started hanging out with me for an alternative reason, not just because you thought my Fall Out Boy shirt was cool.”  
  
To be fair, it was a cool shirt, and he knows Quentin would appreciate someone else still liking the band despite their hiatus, but that’s besides the point. He swallowed nervously, “Uh... what do you mean?”  
  
“I mean,” her expression was neutral, and he couldn’t tell if that was a bad thing or not, “that rumors can spread like wildfire, and I heard from the grapevine that you want to defeat Billy Hargrove for prom king. Any good candidate knows that having a fellow liked nominee always helps. I know that neither of us signed up for prom royalty, but are on the ballot anyway. Billy somehow scored Madison Zimmer, and your chances are looking low. How close am I?”  
  
Steve tried not to look too ashamed, and he wishes he was brave enough to meet her eyes, “Depends on how mad you’d be if I said you were dead on.”  
  
“I wouldn’t be mad.”  
  
Steve blinked, surprise making him look up, “Really?”  
  
Teresa grinned, “Nope. In fact, I’m one-hundred percent for your plan. Billy is an asshole, who’s hurt several of my friends, and I want to see him lose. Hit him where it hurts, you know? I don’t like calling myself popular, but I definitely think we have a chance if we work together.”  
  
Steve couldn’t believe his luck.  
  
“So, you’re okay with going as my date to prom? But, like, it not really being a date?”  
  
Teresa nodded, “Yeah. No offense, Steve, but I can tell you have your eyes on someone else. But, I’m cool with going as your date.”  
  
Holy shit, this actually worked. He might call Robin a genius next time he sees her. He doesn’t like boosting her ego, but this is a case where it’s deserving.  
  
He smirked, wide and vibrant, “Sweet.” He paused, and suddenly took several metaphorical steps back, “Wait, wait, wait, what do you mean you can tell I have my eyes set on someone else?”  
  
She shrugged, “I’m good at reading people, I guess. I don’t think it’s Robin, but whoever you were texting earlier seems highly likely.”  
  
His ears are definitely red, but that doesn’t stop his protests, “No. Crushes are immature and dumb.”  
  
“Uh-huh. Well, it’s not my business. Let’s work on a plan, alright?”  
  
He vigorously nodded, more than happy to change the subject.  
  
(When he hung out with Quentin the next day, he had a hard time deciphering his friend’s expression when he told him he had a date. In the end, Quentin smiled sweetly and told him, “Congratulations.”  
  
Steve has had a pit in his stomach since, and he tries not to think too hard on it.)  
  
-  
  
It was almost laughably easy to crank his charm up to one-hundred and fool the student body that him and Teresa were the perfect couple to take the crowns at prom. Every time he spotted Billy getting frustrated, the more it fueled him to want to win this.  
  
However, he couldn’t help the small (alright, way-bigger-than-he’d-like) part of him that’s sort of... not looking forward to the dance. Which is crazy, because Steve has always loved these kinds of events, revels in the attention, loves cracking jokes with his friends, and making moves on the dance floor. He’s been dreaming about prom since he was a kid; ever since he saw those cheesy movies with adults pretending to be teenagers having this wonderful dance that brings everyone a happy ending. Prom is the biggest event, the top of the class, he should be over the moon with excitement. Except, he’s not.  
  
Robin was quickly picking up on his lack of enthusiasm. He could tell she was both confused and worried. He tried to ignore it the best he could, but he didn’t have much of a choice when she cornered him on their way to the parking lot to head home one afternoon. She crossed her arms, giving him the sternest look possible, “Okay, spill. What’s going on?”  
  
Steve blinked in surprise, quirking a brow, “Pardon?”  
  
“You’ve been looking down the last week, especially whenever prom gets brought up. My best guess is cold feet, but that just doesn’t seem right.”  
  
“I’m not nervous,” he glares, fidgeting with his backpack straps, “I don’t know, I’m just... it’s nothing.”  
  
Robin looked unconvinced, but she dropped it for now, seeing that he clearly doesn’t want to talk about it. Steve sighs once she’s disappeared in her car, scuffing his shoe against the pavement. He might be overthinking things. Or maybe she is. He’s not bummed out. He’s just a tiny bit upset about a small hiccup in a plan he only half put together, involving one of the biggest nights of his high school career and that hiccup is keeping him from one of his closest friends from being there with him, but it really can’t be helped. It’s not that big of a deal. He continues to tell himself that, even when that supposedly small part of him weeps at the sight of his best friend. It’s stupid, he should be focused on winning, not pondering what-ifs. _It’s not like Quentin would even think of him that way_ —  
  
“Steve? Are you okay?”  
  
Quentin was frowning at him worriedly, and okay, maybe Steve was more upset than he’d like to admit. He managed a smile, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes, “Yeah, I’m okay. Long day, I guess.”  
  
Quentin, just like Robin, didn’t seem to believe him. Is he really that bad at lying? He placed a hand on Steve’s shoulder, giving it a comforting squeeze, “You know you can talk to me, right? I may not understand everything, but I’m here to listen.”  
  
He’s never wanted to kiss Quentin so badly in all the years they’ve known each other, but he has some semblance of dignity still, so he keeps smiling and nods his affirmation.  
  
“I know. Thanks, Quen.”  
  
-  
  
Prom is everything he could have ever imagined it being. It was perfectly cliché with streamers hanging from the ceiling, bright lights, poppy music blaring through the speakers, students laughing and dancing. It was just like the movies, exactly what he imagined.  
  
It was so bittersweet, he could hardly stand it.  
  
Robin gave him a once over and laughed, “Wow, you went all out, huh?”  
  
Steve playfully glared at her, fidgeting with the cuff of his black suit, “Of course I did.”  
  
The suit was tailored perfect for him, with a crisp white undershirt and blue trimming along the suit. He had a flower tucked in the breast pocket, matching to the corsage wrapped around Teresa’s wrist. She was dressed in a beautiful red dress with a black belt. She snickered, patting Steve’s arm, “Fit for a king.”  
  
Robin grinned, “Yeah, you two look red carpet ready.”  
  
Steve winked, “You don’t look too bad yourself, Robin.”  
  
She waved her hand dismissively, but he meant it. She looked beautiful in her black and white dress. She gave the both of them a good luck peck on the cheek, before running off to the snack bar. Time was a whirlwind with the constant chatter, music, and dancing. If he had a camera on him, like Jonathan always does, he would take a snapshot of this moment and it would perfectly capsulate the feeling of the night.  
  
The couple stood on the outer edges of the crowd, taking it all in, and Steve felt his mind wander. Wander to how much he can’t believe this is real, and how much he wishes a certain someone could be here. Steve felt Teresa squeeze his hand and he looked over at her in question. She gave him a long look, before asking, “What’s on your mind?”  
  
He narrowed his eyes, shaking his head, “What?”  
  
“What’s on your mind? You’re thinking about something, right?”  
  
He huffed, “Isn’t everyone thinking about something all the time?”  
  
She shrugged, “Well, yeah, generally. But, I meant something more prevalent.”  
  
Steve sighed, his eyes trailing over the crowd in front of them. Everyone was having a good time, it seemed. He had a beautiful girl for his date, and a decent chance of winning the crown, just like he wants. But...  
  
Is that really what he wants?  
  
Sure, the idea sounds nice. It has from the start, that was the whole point of his campaign, getting Teresa involved, and why his name is on the ballot. He wanted to win this, to tell Billy Hargrove where he can shove it. Yet, he looked at the crowd and the girl at his side, and he doesn’t want to dance. He doesn’t want to be there. When did this switch happen? Why is he feeling so against this all of a sudden?  
  
Steve’s eyes widened, smacking his hand against his forehead, “Oh god, what am I doing here?”  
  
“What do you mean?” Teresa frowned.  
  
Steve whirled towards her, grabbing onto her shoulders, “I’m really sorry, Teresa. I know you wanted to avenge your friends, but I-I gotta go.”  
  
“What?”  
  
“I don’t want to dance with you.”  
  
She gave him a funny look, before realization dawned on her, “Oh. Jeez, Steve, why didn’t you just invite them?”  
  
Damn, Teresa is way smarter than he gives her credit for.  
  
“Complicated, but I just couldn’t.” He shook his head, finally, finally getting it, “I have to—I don’t want to do this without him.”  
  
“Then, don’t.” She smiled, patting his hand, “Dude, just because you aren’t here, doesn’t mean you can’t win. People have already casted their vote. You did the heavy lifting with rallying your fans, Robin can accept the crown in your place. Go get your man, Steve.”  
  
He felt heat reach his cheeks, “It’s not like that—“  
  
“Steve, don’t even bother, it’s obvious. I clocked you as soon as we met. Just go already, I’ll explain it to Robin.”  
  
He decides against commenting on that, and instead offers her one last shaky smile, before bolting out the door.  
  
-  
  
Steve has never once in all the years he’s known the Smith family felt nervous upon knocking at their door, but right now, his heart was hammering hard enough to be felt in his ears. To be fair, he was acting on pure adrenaline at this point and was about to do something really stupid, but he’s tired of pretending and pushing away what he really wants. It’s time to take a swing at this metaphorical monster, and finally do something.  
  
Quentin answers the door, dressed in a faded t-shirt, sweatpants, socks with animals printed on them, messy hair, and shadows under his eyes, but he’s still the most beautiful person Steve has ever seen. His eyes widen upon registering who’s at the door and he gawks, “St-Steve? What are you doing here?”  
  
_Oh god, this is really happening, isn’t it?_  
  
Steve’s mouth opened and closed a few times, wondering how exactly to phrase what he wants to say. Maybe he should have rehearsed something. Maybe he should have thought beyond what he wanted to do. The iPod grasped in his hand was something he had hastily grabbed from his house before rushing over, and it was part of his stupid cheesy plan, but he didn’t think of something to say—  
  
“Is prom over already? You texted me, like, an hour ago. Wait, why would you come over here, anyway?” Quentin was fretting a bit, stepping out and giving him an adorably confused look.  
  
“I—no, prom didn’t end. It’s still going on. I just...”  
  
“Why would you leave early? You were so excited about it...” Quentin’s eyes widened, “Oh! Is it because of the Prom King thing? Did you win? What about your date? Did she win?”  
  
Steve shakes his head, “They didn’t announce it before I left. They probably won’t for another half hour. She’s still back at the dance. I don’t know if we won or not.”  
  
Quentin frowned, “Then, why..?”  
  
“Because,” Steve swallowed nervously, palms getting clammy and his heart still racing, “I realized something. I realized... I didn’t really care all that much about winning. Or, well, I do. Kind of. I’d still like to win, that’d be cool and all, but I realized there’s something that I want more. I didn’t want to dance with a girl I didn’t have feelings for. Teresa’s great, but we’re just friends. It... I love Robin, but I didn’t want to dance with her, either. And, I definitely didn’t want to dance with some stranger or acquaintance I barely knew. I’ve been waiting for prom for so long, and I got 45 minutes of it, and it was almost perfect. It was just missing one thing. Because the one thing I always loved the most about those silly high school movies was seeing the couple that the audience had been rooting for dancing under the disco ball with some slow dance number. I wasn’t going to get that moment with Teresa, or Robin, or anyone there.”  
  
Quentin’s mouth was agape in shock, and he really hopes he’s not about to feel disgusted or alarmed or guilty. What happened to all his social grace? He guesses Quentin just makes a wonderfully awkward mess of him. Steve hits play on the iPod, sets it down as Etta James’ ‘At Last’ starts playing softly, and holds out a hand to his best friend. He smiles nervously, and asks, “May I have this dance?”  
  
Steve wants to look away, but he decides that this is a moment he wants to be brave in. He holds Quentin’s gaze as his friend’s eyes light up like the brightest stars in the night sky, and he takes his hand. Steve’s heart skips a beat, as Quentin smiles and says, “O-Of course.”  
  
_Holy shit._  
  
Quentin places his other hand on his shoulder, and Steve instinctively places his opposite hand on his hip. They slowly swayed to the music, and Steve could hardly believe this was happening. It might not be under the lights and streamers and murmur of fellow seniors, it might not have a disco ball or a fancy ballroom; it might just be outside the Smith family household with music playing from an iPod with a cracked screen and only one of them really dressed for the occasion, but it was perfect and everything Steve could ever want.  
  
They fell still in their little dance when the song ended, and Steve once again felt brave and decided to throw caution to the wind. He quietly asked, afraid if he spoke up too loudly that the moment would shatter, “Can I kiss you?”  
  
Quentin’s face was quickly dusted pink, but he didn’t stare for long once he nodded affirmation. Surging forward, Steve connected their lips in a kiss that he felt was worth fireworks and soaring music, his hands cupping Quentin’s cheeks. Absolutely nothing could describe how unbelievably happy he felt in that moment.  
  
It wasn’t a fairytale or the cliché movie moment he always dreamed of, but it was perfect, and he wouldn’t change a thing about it.  
  
“I can’t believe,” Quentin breathlessly laughed as soon as they pulled apart, “that you decided to show up at my house in the middle of your big night to pull something like this. Steve Harrington, you really are something else.”  
  
Steve beamed, “The one and only.”  
  
Quentin’s smile faded and he tilted his head, “Won’t the crown go to someone else since you aren’t there?”  
  
“I don’t care,” he shook his head, “I just want to be here with you.”  
  
Something that can only be called adoration in Quentin’s eyes gleamed, and he sighed, “I’ve been trying to figure out how to tell you I like you for years, and you topped any idea I ever came up with, honestly.”  
  
Steve sputtered, “Really?”  
  
“Really.” He chuckled, “I mean, how could I not like you? You’re... well, you.”  
  
His heart did something like a somersault in his chest, and he joked, “Quentin, if you keep saying things like that, my ego might burst.”  
  
Quentin laughed and grabbed the front of his suit, pulling him in for another kiss, and he happily reciprocated it. The soft melody of the music still playing flowed through the air, and with their arms wrapped around each other, they kept dancing until their feet hurt.  
  
-  
  
When Steve returned to school the next day, he doesn’t really know what he was expecting, but it sure as hell wasn’t this. Teresa and Robin waved to him with the hands that weren’t occupied holding each other’s hands, and had matching crowns placed upon their heads.  
  
“Congrats, Steve. You lost.” Robin grinned.  
  
Steve gawked at the two of them, hands flailing to gesture at the offending scene, “What the fuck is this all about?”  
  
Teresa tapped at her crown, snickering, “Well, they called your name, but you weren’t there, so Robin here technically won. We kissed in front of the entire senior class, and Billy Hargrove nearly choked on his own fury. It was awesome. How’s your boyfriend?”  
  
Steve barely had the time to process any of that before loudly exclaiming, “What? I don’t have a boyfriend!”  
  
The two shared disbelieving looks, and his traitor of a face was definitely red. Robin patted his shoulder sympathetically (read: patronizingly), “Steve, we all know the truth, you don’t have to deny it.”  
  
He groaned, shoving his face in his hands, “Why am I friends with you? Okay, yeah, fine, yes, Quentin and I are dating now. But, what the hell about you two?”  
  
Robin shrugged, ”I’m not a coward, like you.”  
  
He refrained from strangling her with his wondrous patience worthy of a saint, and grumpily mumbled, “Congrats.”  
  
The two of them giggled as the bell rang and his phone buzzed in his pocket. He glanced at it to see a new message had arrived.  
  
**From: Quentin <3**  
_Have a good day at school! I’ll see you after?_  
  
Steve smiles dopily, ignoring his friends’ teasing and replied with an easy affirmation and a smiley face.  
  
Just like that, another day at Hawkins High began.

**Author's Note:**

> I want to thank my friends for helping me to push myself to finally finish it because the last quarter of this fic was kicking my ass
> 
> I kinda envision Steve's suit to look like the design babysitter-problems on tumblr made, they're a Steve ask blog and their art is amazing, so definitely check them out :D
> 
> you can find me at my tumblr, popcornnancy, if you want to talk about harringsmith or just dbd in genereal


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